


Unexpected Benefits of Unnecessary Complications

by bestliars



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Goalies, M/M, Minnesota Wild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-02-16 02:35:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2252676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bestliars/pseuds/bestliars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Acquired at the trade deadline, Ilya Bryzgalov will be the sixth goalie the Wild dress this season. As the captain, it’s Mikko’s responsibility to welcome new players, but he never expected this to happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected Benefits of Unnecessary Complications

**Author's Note:**

> This is written for the hockey big bang, and there is a completely awesome mix that you can listen to here!   
> http://8tracks.com/rawstumes/thaw
> 
> Thanks to Stellarer for being an incredibly patient beta and telling me what to do to make this story so much better.

Ilya Bryzgalov will be the sixth goalie the Wild dress this season. They trade for him the day before the deadline, shoring up a position that has been battling injuries all year, while only giving up a fourth round. It should be a good trade for the team as they head down the stretch battling for playoffs.

As the captain, it’s Mikko’s responsibility to welcome new players. He needs to be gracious and make them feel like a part of the team. This year the Wild get three new players and lose one, with Mitchell heading to Buffalo as part of the deal for Moulson and McCormick. That’s three new personalities that need to settle into the locker room. Mikko isn’t the type of leader to press the issue, but he keeps a sharp eye on things.

Mikko starts to get to know Bryz in practice. Bryz has a new mask right off the bat, which is just a blank mask with a Wild decal that the equipment staff jerry-rigged. The way the vinyl stretched makes it seem more rose than true iron range red, but still, it marks him as part of the team, which does something to warm Mikko’s heart. He’s heard the stories, of course: that Bryz is a locker room cancer, a weirdo who can’t handle the pressure. He’s heard the stories, but he knows better than to believe them. Bryz might be an oddball, true, but that isn’t a bad thing. He’s very smart, and funny, and so far gets along fine. He’s weird, but he’s a goalie, that’s expected.

They’re lucky to get four days between the trade deadline and the next game. There’s plenty of time for practice, to start settling in. The practice is more important for the forwards, who have to adjust to a new system and new linemates, but they’re all new to the Cities. Mikko makes an offer to all of them, saying that he’d be happy to show them around. Bryz is the only one who takes him up on it.

Truthfully, Mikko isn’t happy to do this. He feels awkward around new people, but it’s part of his duty as captain. It isn’t all that bad though. Bryz is staying at a hotel downtown, and after practice they walk around some, until Bryz is a little bit more familiar with the streets directly around the X. The weather’s just starting to get nice, but it’s still damp. They decide to get lunch, and Mikko’s happy to get inside, where he can get something to eat and hot coffee to warm his hands. Over the meal they talk more about the Cities and the team.

Bryz asks about the city’s history, and Mikko tries to remember what he can about Saint Paul’s colorful past as a haven for gangsters during the prohibition. He isn’t particularly interested in local history, but he’s lived here long enough that he’s picked up some things.

Bryz keeps asking questions, and Mikko tries to answer. He doesn’t know that much about how Minnesota was settled by scandinavian immigrants, barely more than what he’s picked up from common stereotypes, but Bryz still seems interested in that. 

“It isn’t a problem for you, living in a state with so many Swedes?” Bryz jokes. He says it straight, but it’s clear he isn’t serious from his smile.

“No, it’s been long enough that you hardly even notice the Swedish influence if you don’t want to. It’s a nice place to live, plenty to see.”

“Yes, so far I like it very much. There are lots of trees.”

Mikko smiles. “True. Lots of trees, and lots of water. It reminds me of home in some ways.”

"That must be nice -- also it gets very cold. That must be like home as well, for me also, though I think I missed the worst of it."

"Maybe. There could be a late snow."

"I wouldn't mind that. I'd like to see what Minnesota's made of."

"Hockey. And snow and hot dish and lakes and trees, but enough is hockey that you won't miss much."

Bryz isn't just curious about the Cities, he also wants to hear about the team. He asks about the culture, the style of play, and what it's been like to play in front of so many different goalies. Mikko likes talking about his team if whoever he's talking to is smart enough to keep up, which Bryz is. Bryz seems eager to find out how he’s going to fit in with the group they have, and Mikko is too. 

Between their lunch and practices Mikko feels like he’s starting to get to know Bryz, at least a little bit. They don’t spend more time together away from the rink, but it’s enough that Mikko feels comfortable.

He was not expecting to enjoy Bryz this much. Bryz has an odd sense of humor that Mikko appreciates, that complements his own. Mikko knows he can get too serious, but it seems like Bryz almost always manages to make him laugh, or at least smile.

Bryz is fascinating. Mikko would like to get know him better; Bryz seems like a puzzle that Mikko could spend ages trying to figure out and never get bored. There’s something frightening in this; being that interested in anyone else seems like a threat to Mikko’s stubborn independence. 

The first trip after the trade deadline is just to Dallas for a single game. Mikko isn’t looking forward to it, well aware of the Wild’s record in that building. Dallas tends to make him grouchy, but he tries not to let his mood affect the team, or his own play. Against his better judgement he sits next to Bryz at dinner the night before the game, enjoying it more than he wants to.

Bryz talks a lot, but not obnoxiously so. He listens to the stories the kids want to share, smiles and tells them to go on. He’s a character, true, but nothing like the locker room blight that some factions of the media have made him out to be. Mikko trusted that Fletcher knew what he was doing by adding Bryz to the team, but he doesn’t think Chuck expected Bryz to be such a hit. 

They go home after the expected loss in Dallas. Bryz makes his first start for the Wild, a shootout loss against the Blues. It’s the start of a homestand that’s more frustrating than anything else. By the time it’s over Mikko is more than ready to leave again.

They lose in Boston, the first road loss to the Bruins in franchise history. Mikko hates it. He's been with the Wild since almost the beginning, and has gotten to be a part of so many moments. He likes it a lot better when they do something cool for the first time, and a landmark like this always makes a loss hurt worse. 

Then it’s on to Long Island, and a meaningful 6-0 win. Winning a game like this is fun, and has happened rare enough in Mikko’s career. Bryz is in the net for the shutout, and he’s all smiles after the game. He’s good for this team.

More than that, Bryz is...interesting, for lack of a better word. It’s been a while since Mikko’s been in a relationship, and longer still since he’s been in one with another man. In different circumstances Mikko could see himself pursuing something with Bryz, but the way things are it doesn’t make sense. They’re teammates, which complicates matters, though Mikko knows being a couple on his team is possible; Zach and Ryan are evidence of that. If Mikko were able to overlook the possible problems raised by being teammates, the forecast that they almost certainly not be teammates next year might have been enough. The Wild already have three goalies under contract for the next season — it doesn’t matter how well Bryz plays now, there won’t be room to bring him back. Nothing good could come from getting attached to someone who’s almost assuredly gone.

It doesn’t matter though. They have hockey to play, and the games are far more important than Mikko’s lacking personal life. He’s focused, healthy again, and happy to concentrate on the end of the season. They’ve worked hard to still be in it, but they can’t let up now. Mikko doesn’t want any distractions. He shoves down any thoughts he might have about Bryz because they don’t matter.

The glint in Zach’s eyes when they board the plane must mean Mikko has been more obvious about his feelings than he thought.

Sure enough, once they’re in the air Zach starts, “So, you and Bryz?”

“No.” Mikko isn’t sure exactly where Zach’s going with this, but no. No.

“He likes you,” Zach says, sounding excited, like this is something that matters. “And you like him. It’s adorable.”

Mikko isn’t going to offer a flat out denial, he isn’t going to lie when the truth of the situation is what’s important. “Maybe, maybe not. Doesn’t matter.”

“It could. It could be really good for you. _He_ could be good for you.”

“He’s not coming back next year,” Mikko says.

“Maybe. You don’t know that. He doesn’t know that.”

True. There are still many variables up in the air, an almost endless amount of questions around their goaltending going forward. Mikko misses Nik, who he’s spent his entire NHL career playing in front of. Nik has always been a calming influence, a countryman, and someone Mikko understands. Nik should be healthy next year, hopefully.

“Still — I don’t know that he’s staying.”

“So?” Zach asks. “Go for it anyway, you’re super into each other. What’s the worst that could happen?”

That isn’t what’s stopping him. He isn’t worried about worst case scenarios. He’s worried about adding unnecessary complications.

Mikko sighs. “Not everyone gets a storybook ending. Sometimes people get hurt, it doesn’t always work out.”

Zach scoffs.

Mikko thinks of Shea Weber’s continued enthusiasm for checking Zach as hard as he can. Zach can’t forget that his own happiness couldn’t have happened without any casualties, not when he’s still getting pushed around in retaliation. Zach must think it’s worth it though. And he must not care about what finding his happiness did to anyone else. Mikko won’t bring any of this up though — there are some subjects that aren’t fair game in arguments, and that’s one of them. 

“Fuck that,” Zach says. “Better to have loved and lost than to have not loved at all, right?”

Mikko rolls his eyes. “Throwing cliches around won’t change my mind.”

“Sometimes things are cliches for a reason, Mikko. It’s not a bad thing to put yourself out there.”

Mikko shakes his head. They aren’t going to come to an agreement. The problem is that Zach is a romantic, and hopelessly in love. Mikko can appreciate this. He’s glad that Zach and Ryan chose to play for the Wild together, and he appreciates how the stability of their relationship is a positive influence on the team. That doesn’t mean he needs what they have, the kind of true love worth planning a whole life around. He’s very happy on his own.

Bryz is interesting. He can admit that. Bryz is very interesting, and Mikko is interested, but not enough that he can overlook the possible consequences of it going poorly. He’s very happy just how he is.

He’s going to stay focused on hockey.

They lose to Vancouver at home, then go to St Louis to lose again the next night. It’s unacceptable. 

They need to figure this out. This isn’t how they want to end the season. They might not make the playoffs if they keep going like this. They have a tough schedule coming up, and have to get ready.

Mikko huddles with Zach in the hotel lobby, knowing that they need to do something proactive to turn things around. He’s tired, worn down from back to back losses, and wants nothing more than to fall asleep. Zach, on the other hand, is practically bouncing on the balls of his feat, a whirlwind of frustrated energy. Zach’s rattling off ideas, rambling too fast for Mikko to really listen. Ryan’s standing back, watching, and ready to step in if he’s needed.

Mikko rubs at his eyes.

“We can talk about it in the morning?” Mikko asks. He imagines that things will seem a lot more manageable in the morning.

Zach seems prepared to object and insist that they need to sort this out _now._ Mikko is about ten seconds away from being rude, which won’t help anything.

“How about we get breakfast together?” Ryan suggests.

Mikko nods. That sounds like as good of a plan as any other. They make arrangements, then Mikko leaves them to go up to his room. He’s alone, it’s quiet, and he falls asleep easily. 

He gets down to breakfast to find that Zach and Ryan already have a table. They’re sitting next to each other on one side of the booth, and he knows if he were closer he might be able to see their ankles touching, but from a distance everything appears very proper. He knows how careful they are.

It isn’t just them, though — Bryz is sitting across from them, saying something that makes Ryan laugh. 

This isn’t going to be a problem — it isn’t a social meal, they’re professionals coming together to discuss their team. Bryz has played in this league for a long time, and as a newcomer he has a different perspective on the room that could be useful. Mikko can understand why Bryz would get invited to this breakfast. (Zach might be an interfering romantic, who absolutely has multiple motivations for inviting Bryz, but he wouldn’t do anything if it would get in the way of the conversation they need to have.)

They start talking about the need for focus in the end of the season. It doesn't look like a difficult problem to solve. They can’t let going down early get to them. They need to find ways to come back in a game. It isn’t over until it’s over, and they need to be resilient. If it was as easy as saying all that then they would have done it a long time ago. It's easier to fix concrete problems than mental lapses. There isn't a cure, the only thing to do is keep trying. Even when things look bleak, keep trying. Mikko's had plenty of practice. 

It’s odd, to be discussing the power play and the right things to say to the younger players over omelets while Zach and Ryan steal bites off of each other’s plates. Mikko looks to see if Bryz reacts to this, but he seems unbothered. He meets Mikko’s eyes, and smiles. Mikko feels like it should be awkward, but somehow it isn’t, Bryz is just smiling at him like everything's going to be fine. Mikko still doesn’t understand Bryz, really.

Zach and Ryan might be odd, but Mikko is used to the two of them, for the most part. Except for sometimes in a moment like this he will be reminded of the improbability of their relationship. Mikko still can’t understand what it would be like to be so in love with another person that you would shape your whole life to be with them. The only thing Mikko’s cared about that much is hockey. He’s never felt it himself, but he appreciates their love because of how it’s shaped the team.

The team’s changed so much in the past few years. Today they’re discussing the final push to the playoffs like it’s realistic, expected even. Mikko likes it this way of course, but it feels strange. He’s still more used to spring meaning the World cup or a chance to heal. 

They come up with a plan of attack. They're going to talk to the rest of the team individually, talk things over, and make sure everyone is on the same page. The roster is split three ways. Ilya will talk to Darcy, goalie to goalie, but Mikko will check in with him as well. They'll reconvene later in the day to compare notes, before a team meeting after dinner. 

Mikko is mostly responsible talking to the team’s veterans. He leaves the kids to Zach, who’s more patient with their takes on young love.

The team meeting goes well. They’re all on the same page now, ready to face down the end of season. Sometimes it’s important to come together as a team, behind closed doors, and without the coaching staff. 

Afterwards, the same group from breakfast decamps to a booth in the hotel bar.

Zach talks happily about his hopes for the kids, and for the team in the postseason. Mikko has a hard time allowing himself to think that far ahead. There are things to get through first. Mikko’s glad that Ryan’s steadiness balances Zach’s enthusiasm, and while Bryz is new, Mikko certainly appreciates him. He likes having other voices he can trust. It’s important that he remembers he doesn’t have to do everything on his own. They’re slogging through it together.

After a while Zach and Ryan stop paying attention to anyone else. Sometimes they spin into moments like this, caught in each other to the point where they lose the outside world. Mikko has become adept at pulling them out if necessary, or keeping himself otherwise occupied if not. He won’t interupt them without a reason, they don’t have enough opportunities to be a couple in peace without worry. He has someone else to talk to right now.

“So, how did talking to Darcy go?” Mikko asks.

“Good, good. He’s young, but very steady. Not much fazes him, that will be good.”

“That’s good to hear,” Mikko says.

It’s odd — they spent the day checking in on the team, but never stopped to ask each other. Ryan and Zach have each other, and Mikko knows he’s doing fine, but he doesn’t think Bryz has been asked yet. He’ll have to do it himself.

“And how are you Bryz?”

“Ilya, please. We can be comfortable enough for first names, correct?”

Mikko supposes they can. “Fine, then Ilya?”

“Happy to be with the team.”

“We’re happy to have you,” Mikko says.

“Of course, you need two goalies. Darcy’s good, but young. You lot needed a healthy veteran, and my old bones do good enough to fill that hole.”

Mikko shrugs. “True, but I’m glad it’s you.” He isn’t sure why he’s saying this. He’s gotten used to being honest today. Bryz — Ilya isn’t the only one who could have solved their goaltending, but no one else would have been the same. It’s Ilya who was invited to the captain’s breakfast, it’s Ilya who he’s talking to now. Mikko appreciates this more than he wants to. He is able to push that worry away to enjoy the company, and then get a good night’s sleep.

Rested and refocused, they play Phoenix the next day. They come back in the third period, scoring three goals to win 3-1. Mikko has two assists, and Ilya has another strong showing in net.

Mikko is ready to keep things going in LA. There’s practice before facing the Kings, and Darcy leaves halfway through with a headache, and Andrew Brunette becomes the Wild’s latest emergency goalie, filling in for the rest of the morning.

Bruno’s been retired for a few years now, his skating finally slow enough that he had to switch to working with the front office and the coaching staff. Mikko played with Bruno for years, and isn’t surprised to see what an atrocious goalie his former linemate makes. 

Bruno isn’t a good goalie, or a fast skater, or someone whose love life advice Mikko is interested in hearing.

Bruno finds him after practice, and Mikko assumes they’re going to be talking about goaltending, or maybe the power play. Unfortunately his first guess proves correct, after a fashion.

“So. Bryz. You like him, don’t you?” Bruno asks.

“He’s been playing very well,” Mikko says, which is true, but not an answer.

Bruno doesn’t let him get away with it. “No, you _like_ him. I wasn’t sure, it’s always hard to tell with you, but when I asked, you dodged the question and complimented his play. That’s practically cartoon hearts in your eyes.”

“He’s a good addition to the team.”

“Yes, but that’s not why you _like_ him — not all of it anyway.”

Mikko can keep deflecting, but he isn’t going to lie. “He’s a good teammate, and has been playing well. Anything else I think doesn’t matter.” Maybe Bruno will drop it now. Probably not.

“I think he likes you,” Bruno says.

Mikko is going to ignore this.

“No, really. He’s friendly with everyone, but he likes you a lot. I think it might be good for you. You know he’d totally say yes if you asked him out.”

Mikko could say he isn’t interested, but that would be a lie, which Bruno would probably see right through. He’s going to stick to the truth. “It wouldn’t be proper.”

“Does proper matter that much?” Bruno asks.

The withering look Mikko shoots him should answer that.

“No, is being _proper_ worth not getting what you want?”

Yes. It has to be. Mikko prides himself on being a good leader and a hard worker and putting the team first. Examining his feelings about Ilya Bryzgalov wouldn’t do anything good for the team. It’s for the best if he just ignores this idea.

Bruno sighs, and seems to resign himself to not getting the answer he wants. “It’s just, I don’t remember ever seeing you like this with someone,” Bruno says.

Mikko doesn't know what that means.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Bruno laughs at him. "I can't tell if you're oblivious or in denial, but it's great, absolutely classic."

Mikko makes a face. He doesn't enjoy being mocked. 

"Seriously, the way you look at him. You’re all smiles, and never seem to get annoyed. It’s actually kinda weird, but I’m happy for you. And the way he looks at you — really, it’s something.”

“You’re delusional,” Mikko says. Actually, Bruno might be right, but Mikko won’t give him the satisfaction of saying that.

Mikko’s never felt this way about a teammate before. Ilya is different, in a lot of ways. Mikko was prepared for Ilya being different, but he wasn’t prepared for how comfortable he would be with him. Mikko knows he isn’t great at opening up to new people. It wasn’t until this season that he got comfortable with Jason, and he’s still awkward with Moulson. Something with Bryz just clicked.

Now that Darcy’s hurt, Bryz is the de facto starter. Mikko’s worried about Darcy, he worries about all the kids on the team, and he always worries about concussions. He doesn’t like that Mikke and Darcy are both on a flight back to the Twin Cities to get their heads checked out while the rest of the team is off to Chicago, to play an important game against the Blackhawks.

This is why they traded for Bryz. He’s insurance, a veteran presence that can start games when called upon.

They lose the game, but in a shootout. Mikko doesn’t score. Neither do Zach or Pommer, but Mikko has the C on his chest, so he should have been the one to tie it up and give the kids a chance to pull out a win.

They’re headed home after this, for a meeting with the Penguins. After that trip Mikko’s happy to be home, even if it’s only for a single game. Mikko’s played for one team his whole career; this is his ninth year in Minnesota. He has a house, and friends, and when he thinks home he thinks of here as well as Finland. Ilya has played for five different NHL teams. Mikko can hardly imagine that kind of transience.

He sits next to Ilya on the plane, but not of his own doing. He sat down, and Ilya took the seat next to him. It’s a short flight, just over an hour. They start by talking about the game, then about the team. Mikko’s worried about Mikael, who’s out again after hitting his head. Mikko still hasn’t heard the official verdict of whether the injury is another concussion or not, but either way he’s still concerned.

They’re somewhere over the midwest when Ilya asks, “Go out with me tomorrow night?”

Mikko wonders if Ilya waited until they were at cruising altitude to have this conversation to assure that he wouldn’t be able to deflect as easily. There aren't many distractions, or easy ways to change the subject. It's just the two of them, sitting next to each other, the team humming around them, and the sky outside.

Ilya goes on, says, “I want to see more of the city while I can, and would like your company.”

Mikko considers it. Maybe, if it’s just as teammates, and nothing more. “What are you thinking about?” he asks.

“I want to take you to dinner. And then, I don’t know. Maybe the theater, or maybe I could take you stargazing.”

Mikko looks away.

"That sounds like a date,” he says, not knowing what he wants to hear.

“Yes, I should hope so. If you would rather we could not. We could be very American and get pizza and beer as friends. I would enjoy that too, but would prefer a date.”

Mikko’s going to say no.

This isn’t a good idea.

He’s weighed the risks and rewards, and this isn’t something he should try. Maybe it turns out alright, maybe it makes him happy for a little while. But it won’t last, and it would be a distraction. He should say no.

He looks up again to see Ilya looking so hopeful, smiling brightly.

Fuck it.

“Okay,” Mikko says, and is relieved that he doesn’t immediately regret it.

“Good! You won’t be disappointed, I am an excellent date, I promise.” Ilya’s smile makes Mikko want to trust him.

Mikko hopes this is a good idea. He nods, and they make plans.

Ilya picks him up. It’s unnecessary, and out of his way, but Ilya had offered, and Mikko figured that at this point he should simply commit to the full date experience.

Ilya knocks on his door five minutes early with a small bouquet of brightly colored tropical flowers. Mikko is so grateful to see him that the he can’t overthink the flowers. They’re beautiful. Mikko doesn’t know what they mean, but they’re beautiful, and Ilya’s arrival saved him from more nervous pacing. Mikko cuts the ends of the flowers at a diagonal and puts them in water, and then they leave.

They go out to dinner. The food’s good. At the end of the meal they split the bill. Even if nothing comes from this it will go down as the most enjoyable first date Mikko’s ever been on. All it’s supposed to be is a first date.

They don’t do anything other than eat dinner. They discuss the possibilities after they’ve finished the meal, lingering at the table with coffee and dessert. They could try to find something interesting happening in the Cities, but neither of them want to stay out late. They could go somewhere else it might be too loud to hear each other. It’s very nice to sit together and just talk, for a long time, until it’s late enough that the restaurant is starting to close and they have to leave.

It’s only a first date. Mikko is charmed, and trying to be better at embracing the moment, but it is still only a first date. Ilya is so many things Mikko isn’t: colorful, and a free spirit. Mikko doesn’t buy into the cliche that opposites attract, but he can admit they complement each other very well. It has been a lovely evening.

Ilya turns into Mikko’s driveway. There’s nothing left to do but say goodnight.

Fuck it.

“Do you want to come in for coffee,” Mikko asks, glad that the darkness hides the color in his cheeks.

“It’s late,” Illya says. “I don’t know about coffee.”

Mikko takes half a second to close his eyes. He can have things that he wants. Being happy won’t ruin anything. The only thing in the way are his own reservations, and he doesn’t want to be limited by his fears.

“Come in anyway?” Mikko asks, feeling brave, nervous energy bubbling in his chest.

“Yes, I can. It sounds excellent.”

Ilya follows him up the walkway to the house. Mikko left the porch light on, there’s plenty of light, the only reason why he might be fumbling with the keys is nerves. He manages though, lets them inside and flips on the light in the foyer.

The flowers on the table are unusual, but otherwise this is Mikko’s comfortably dull living room. Ilya’s unfamiliar presence in this space shouldn’t be enough to stop Mikko from relaxing.

“Are you sure you don’t want coffee?” Mikko asks, playing the role of the conscientious host to keep his mind occupied. “I might have decaf? Or tea? Beer? Water?” He would probably keep on offering the entire inventory of his kitchen if Ilya didn’t stop him.

“I don’t need anything to drink,” Ilya says, placing his hand on Mikko’s chest. “That is not why you invited me in, true?”

No, it wasn’t. 

Ilya is standing very close to him. Mikko finds he doesn’t mind at all. Ilya moves his hand, from where it’s pressed flat-palmed against Mikko’s chest, moving lower to rest on Mikko’s hip. Mikko steps into the touch, and wraps his arm around Ilya’s waist.

They’re standing very close together. Ilya’s eyes are full of humor and intelligence. They’re going to kiss in just a moment. Mikko’s ready now, looking forward to it even.

The first brush of their lips is soft, only a hint of what might come. The second kiss is stronger, the third even better. It’s been long enough, but Mikko feels confident in his actions. He moves well with Ilya, working in harmony as they kiss, making their way upstairs, down the hall, into his bedroom. Ilya looks like he belongs in Mikko’s bed. Mikko is past hesitation, past fear and worry. He feels like he can ask for what he wants, and surrender to the pleasure they bring each other. It is unusual, but feels right. Mikko suspects he was missing this or something like this in his life. 

In the morning he’s the first to wake, up before his alarm is set to go off. Ilya is still sleeping peacefully, and Mikko doesn’t want to disturb him. He goes downstairs to start the coffee maker, then gets in the shower.

Ilya’s awake when he gets out, sitting up Mikko’s bed, smiling. It still seems unreal. Mikko doesn’t do things like this. Ilya gets up, and walks nakedly across the room, stopping to kiss Mikko on his way to the bathroom. Maybe this will be fine.

It’s much less awkward than Mikko would have thought. Ilya refuses awkwardness through sheer force of personality, strong enough even to save Mikko from himself. It’s a good start to the day.

Mikko drives Ilya back to his hotel, then kills time before morning skate by getting a second cup of coffee that he doesn’t need but enjoys deeply.

Any concern that Mikko might have had about the sex having a negative impact evaporates quickly as they come back with a strong game. They defeat an admittedly depleted and unmotivated Penguins team 4-0. Ilya has a shutout, and Mikko has one of the goals.

They go out to celebrate the victory. Ilya is so excited about the win, and fits in so well with the rest of the team. Mikko almost feels happy enough to invite Ilya home with him for another night, but ultimately thinks it would be too much too soon, and leaves alone. 

They sit next to each other on the flight to Winnipeg. It isn’t a conscious decision, it feels natural. Mikko’s happy, and doesn’t see the point in second guessing himself constantly. He doesn’t have routines about plane rides.This seems to work, it’s best not questioned too deeply.

Most of the team spends the evening before the game at the steakhouse bar across the road from the hotel. Ilya is holding court, telling stories to an attentive audience. Mikko is sitting next to him, laughing along. He’s happy to be surrounded by his team, but glad to not be the center of attention. This comes so easily to Ilya. Mikko’s happy to sit beside him and listen.

Ilya is the center of attention the next night too. He’s incredible, earning a shutout, even as the Jets fans taunt him. They chant his name, _Ilya, Ilya,_ and he eats it up, basking in their attention, asking for more.

They sit next to each other on the plane home too, knees touching.

There are three more games left. Two good wins that end with Ilya coming home with Mikko and not leaving until the next morning. They finish the season with a messy loss against Nashville. Mikko’s growing used to the idea that Nashville games hurt more often than not, and at this point it doesn’t matter. Two more points in the standing won’t make a difference. They’re headed to the playoffs, the Predators aren’t. 

On their last night off before the postseason starts, Mikko takes Ilya stargazing. Even after living in the Cities for so long, Mikko isn’t sure where they can go to get away from the metropolitan light pollution. He has to resort to googling possibilities. He does his research, and picks a park about an hour’s drive past his already-suburban home.

This feels ridiculous, going stargazing with someone he likes. He brought a blanket so they can lie in the grass.

Ilya is next to him, radiating heat. The stars are only pinpricks of light in the night sky. Mikko doesn’t know the names of the constellations; the sky seems different here than when he was a boy growing up in Finland and interested in these things. Mikko doesn’t know why Ilya would know any more than him, other than his boundless curiosity. He points at things, names them in Russian, and tells Mikko stories. They don’t remind Mikko of any tales he’s heard before. He wouldn’t put it past Ilya to be making stuff up, but they’re good stories, and if they are bullshit Mikko wouldn’t know. 

Mikko thinks this is supposed to be romantic, but it isn’t. He’s supposed to be awed by how beautiful the stars are, and how in love he is, but neither of those things are happening. He’s happy. He’s really incredibly happy, happier than he’s been in ages, but he isn’t overcome by any feelings of love and beauty. He doesn’t feel like he’s missing anything. He appreciates what he has, which is more than he had before. He isn’t looking for anything else.

The world’s so big. There’s the two of them on the blanket, then a whole universe past them, which is, pardon the expression, humongous big. 

It’s so odd, almost magical, that things brought them here together. It isn’t actually chance, it was a smart trade at the deadline, and before that a series of mostly unconnected choices to play hockey, so many interlocking parts. It’s amazing that they ever met in a world this big and complicated.

Mikko is caught up in these thoughts and the stars that he’s taken by surprise when Ilya leans close, pressing his mouth against Mikko’s neck. This is all a terrible idea — all of it, absolutely terrible, it’s too risky, Mikko’s in way over his head. 

That doesn’t mean he wants to stop.

He’s come to terms with his terrible choices, but not enough to go any further with Ilya in public.

“Come home with me?” Mikko asks, speaking softly.

Mikko feels Ilya nod, and has already started to smile when Ilya whispers, “I’d love to,” directly into Mikko’s ear. Mikko shudders involuntarily. Ilya’s hand, already wrapped low around his waist, tightens, and fruitlessly tries to pull Mikko even closer. Mikko wants to be impossibly close, and he wants Ilya’s hand to slide lower down his stomach, but not right now, not here where anyone can see them.

“In a little bit,” Mikko says. “Let’s stay and watch the stars for a little longer.” 

Mikko’s happy here. Taking Ilya home will make him happy in another, physical, visceral way, but first Mikko wants to spend a bit longer in the cool night air. He’s is happy with Ilya. Their future isn’t certain, but he’s enjoyed what’s happened so far. The future is always uncertain, but they have potential.

It’s like how the Wild probably aren’t going to win the Stanley Cup this year, but they got to the playoffs, which means they have a chance.

Being with Ilya is a bit like getting into the playoffs — anything could happen from here. Mikko could get his heart broken. It could crash and burn horribly. Or maybe they win it all? Maybe?

Anything could happen; they’re just going to have to play the game and find out.


End file.
